


Secret Agent Aviva: or, Operation Tartan, Sunglasses, and Hug

by AnonymousDandelion



Series: The Secret Agent Gossip Ring Of St. James's Park [2]
Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Banter, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff and Humor, Footnotes, Gossip, Hugs, M/M, POV Outsider, Spies & Secret Agents, St James's Park (Good Omens), soulmates dialogue prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27377143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousDandelion/pseuds/AnonymousDandelion
Summary: The secret agent gossip ring of St. James's Park had been abuzz with gossip ever since the day that Sunglasses and Tartan were first observed, as confirmed by multiple independent eyewitness testimonies, to hug each other.Today, American Central Intelligence Agency Operative Aviva (code-named Aviva) was setting out on a reconnaissance mission.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: The Secret Agent Gossip Ring Of St. James's Park [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006173
Comments: 10
Kudos: 189
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	Secret Agent Aviva: or, Operation Tartan, Sunglasses, and Hug

**Author's Note:**

> A followup to my ficlet [The Latest Gossip of the International Intelligence Community: A Hug](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27046888), which was in turn inspired by [fractalgeometry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalgeometry)'s ficlet [ Thwart the Demon, Hug the Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26824702).
> 
> This can most definitely be read, understood, and (hopefully!) enjoyed as a standalone — however, if you're at all interested, I'd still recommend reading the other ficlets, whether before or after!
> 
> This was also inspired by the first "soulmates" prompt in my [Dialogue Prompt Fills](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996120) series; the idea turned out longer than planned, so instead I'm posting this as a separate oneshot, and wrote another ficlet ([What If We Never Met?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27421684)), based on the same prompt, to include in the series. The prompt in question was "It was a matter of time before we got together."
> 
> (Apologies for the excessive number of links in this note!)

The secret agent gossip ring of St. James's Park had been abuzz with — well — _gossip_ ever since the day of The Hug.

To be precise[1]: The secret agent gossip ring of St. James's Park had been abuzz with gossip ever since the day that Sunglasses and Tartan (the odd pair that every spy in the circle had been taking note of for as long as anyone or their predecessor could recall) were first observed, as confirmed by multiple independent eyewitness testimonies, to _hug each other._

It was a scene that would have been memorable even if every member of the international intelligence community had not been searching desperately for something, anything, to talk about that did not relate to Atlantis, lemon drops, or other mass hallucinations. As things stood, given that the international intelligence community _was_ in fact searching desperately for something, anything else to talk about, the speculation that erupted in the aftermath of The Hug knew no bounds.

Despite the multiple corroborating accounts, several of those secret agents who had had the misfortune to be absent from the park on the day of The Hug (but who were, like their fellows, very well aware of Tartan and Sunglasses and their constant, careful, conscientiously maintained distance) professed skepticism that The Hug had ever really happened. Some vere simply bitter about having missed the moment; others suspected their counterparts of deception[2]; others strove to keep an open mind about the whole thing.

American Central Intelligence Agency Operative Aviva[3] fell into the latter category. And she wanted answers.

So today, Aviva was setting out on a reconnaissance mission.

~ ~ ~

Aviva approached the pair near a bench. “Excuse me,” she said.

Both men spun in perfect synchronicity to stare at her.

Aviva took a half-step back, and greeted them with a warm, professionally personable smile. “I just wanted to say congratulations.”

Tartan looked at her as if she’d grown a second head, or possibly a fifth. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m very happy for you,” Aviva went on.

“Why?” drawled Sunglasses — and for all Aviva’s training in reading posture and vocal tone, she could not for the life of her have said whether or not the question was sarcastic.

Regardless, years of espionage experience stood her in good stead. Guilelessly (when the option was available, truth was Aviva’s preferred spying strategy), she explained, “I’m sure you don’t recognize me[4], but I come to the park often — er, to feed the ducks, you know — and I’ve been noticing you for years.”

At that, Sunglasses and Tartan looked truly taken aback. They exchanged glances, then mutters.[5]

“ _And_ ,” Aviva continued — getting to the crux of her mission now — “I hope I’m not being intrusive” — she knew very well that she was being intrusive, that was the whole point — “I couldn’t help but notice that things seem to have, well, _changed_ between you.”

The pair exchanged glances again.

And now, the crux itself: see their reaction to her next line, her clincher. Find out if the assertion that things had _changed_ was true, or if it was not. “And it’s really wonderful,” Aviva carried on blithely, “to see you two finally together.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Tartan and Sunglasses said in unison.

She waited for them to say something else, whether of confusion or confirmation. Aviva was a secret agent; she knew how to draw out the silence, waiting for her targets to volunteer more information without her having to give the appearance of intentionally drawing it out.

After a moment, Sunglasses added, “Ngk.”

Aviva continued to wait. She was starting to question the efficacy of her plan, but she wasn’t going to give up this easily.

Her patience was rewarded. Finally, Tartan cleared his throat. “Why, thank you. I like to think it was a matter of time before we got together.”

“A lot of time,” Sunglasses qualified. “Felt like thousands of years.”

“ _My dear._ ” Tartan shot Sunglasses a look that meant nothing at all to Aviva — but one that seemed to mean quite a lot to Sunglasses, judging by the way the latter smirked.

“You going to argue with me?” Sunglasses asked.

“Well. No. Are _you_ arguing with _me_?”

Sunglasses rolled his head[6]. “Nah, angel. You’re right, definitely just a matter of time.”

Tartan’s eyes crinkled, plainly both amused and affectionate, turning a full-faced smile on Sunglasses. Even in its periphery, the expression was all but dazzling; Aviva could only imagine what it would feel like to be the direct recipient of that beam.

And then, so smoothly, so casually, so _easily,_ Tartan reached out an arm, pulling Sunglasses into his side. Sunglasses’s arm snaked around Tartan’s torso — and suddenly, with Aviva standing _right there_ , they were doing it, doing it again, again, before her very eyes, scarcely two feet away.

Hugging each other.

 _Hugging_ each other. As if nothing could be more natural, normal, even inevitable.

Seen apart, Aviva would have said these two men could hardly have been less compatible. If she was not trained to reserve judgment, she would have been very hard put not to scoff at the idea that two such different characters as Sunglasses and Tartan would ever willingly have anything to do with each other.

Seen together, however, so seemingly effortlessly attuned to one another, it was difficult to conceive of a universe in which they could _not_ be with each other.

The men were obviously lost in one another now, talking in low voices, Aviva’s presence evidently forgotten. Mission successful; more successful than Aviva had even dared to hope.

Quietly, unobtrusively, she turned to make her getaway.

“Word of advice,” said Sunglasses, and Aviva jumped, turning back only to see him still clearly wrapped up (both figuratively and literally) in Tartan’s arms.

“Pardon?” Aviva said.

“Steer clear of double cross schemes. Spying is all very well — big spy fan, me, got the James Bond window transfers and everything — but I hear double crosses can be risky ventures.”

Aviva gaped. “Double crosses? I don’t—” She was about to say, “I don’t do double crosses, that’s not my sector,” but caught herself and changed courses just in time to modify the sentence to, “I don't know what you are talking about.”

“ _Dear boy!_ ” Tartan huffed audibly, frowning at Sunglasses (but without making any move to step out of the continued hug, Aviva noted). “I’m sure the young lady does not need your advice. She’s very good at what she does. Don’t be rude.”

“Smartest person I ever met got fooled by a double crosser,” Sunglasses told Aviva.

“Oh, hush,” Tartan rebuked. To Aviva, he added, “He’s just trying to tease me. Don’t mind him, you did a very nice job.”

“Once again, I am absolutely certain I have no idea what you mean,” Aviva said stiffly, trying not to feel that her mission was going completely off the rails.

“Ah. Of course. Naturally, you don’t,” Tartan agreed amiably. “I do apologize, that was quite tactless of me. I only meant to say, thank you very much for your good wishes, and do have a lovely day.”

Sunglasses made a snorting sound. “Right. Ciao.”

Aviva beat as dignified a retreat as she could manage. By the time she’d circled the park, and eventually reunited with her counterparts near the duck pond, the gossip ring was already occupied in intense analysis and dissection of what they’d seen happening.

Aviva tossed a piece of bread to the ducks, always conscious of maintaining her cover, then began to reveal her findings to her rapt and waiting audience. She had no shortage of new intelligence information to report.

_A matter of time._

_Angel._

_Dear boy._

And, of course, another Hug.

Aviva was _definitely_ not going to mention the unsettling end of her conversation with her targets — but her reputation in the secret agent gossip ring of St. James's Park was about to go way up.

**Footnotes**

1 Not that any agent who wasn’t hopelessly out of the loop would have needed any precision beyond those two words.[return to text]

2 An unfortunate side effect of knowing that everyone in your gossip ring was — just like you— an international-league spy playing a long game.[return to text]

3 Code-named Aviva, because the code-namer when she was first recruited had been a fellow who was fond of utilizing reverse spellings. This proved a brilliant and fortuitous move, as it never failed to baffle any rival intelligence agencies attempting to deduce her code name.[return to text]

4 They did, of course; Aziraphale and Crowley knew most of the secret agents of the past two hundred years by sight, voice, and nationality.[return to text]

5 Aziraphale: “Oh dear. It seems we weren’t as careful as we thought we were.”  
Crowley: “Yeah. Guess it doesn’t matter now, though.”  
Aziraphale: “I suppose. Now, what do you think this nice girl wants to talk to us about?”[return to text]

6 Yes, Sunglasses rolled his _head_ , his eyes not being visible behind the eponymous dark lenses. Experience in training and international espionage and culturally diverse norms of body language notwithstanding, Aviva had not known until that very moment that it was even possible to roll one’s head with such incredible expressiveness.[return to text]

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to any real secret agents reading this. ;)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this half as much as I enjoyed writing it! Kudos and comments always far more than welcomed and appreciated. And one more shout-out to [fractalgeometry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalgeometry) for initially inspiring this series, because I'm having an inordinate amount of fun with the secret agent gossip ring.


End file.
